


light clingers

by ComaGayby



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, F/F, Feels, I'm so proud of them, Love, POV First Person, Photography, Post-Save Chloe Price Ending, Reflection, Romantic Fluff, i hope the max and chloe in LIS 2 are just as actualized, i think this is actually the gayest thing i've ever written which is honestly an achievement, kinda a spiritual sequel to my previous sacrifice-arcadia-bay story, will max ever stop babbling? i hope not, y'all they're so madly in love, yearny earnest vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComaGayby/pseuds/ComaGayby
Summary: i didn't think i would ever fall in love with life again, and i've never been more glad to be wrongIn which Max and Chloe are happy and fulfilled twenty-somethings, and take a pleasant night walk together.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	light clingers

the crickets are serenading us and when i see your gentle smile illuminated in loving yellow i know why 

i feel your hand tickle my palm and it's so _perfect_ that i almost want to cry 

but i'm learning to take this for granted 

the only storms are in my mind 

_the only storms are in my mind_

honestly, the storm pales in comparison to you

it made me feel a sliver of what being around you does

growing up hasn't made me less of a sappy dork, but it also hasn't made me any less unashamed 

you've changed more, but subtly 

the edges have rounded out a bit 

but you're still too hotheaded for your own good and you still grab my hand and pull me along on really ill-advised adventures and i still fucking love it 

i'll always be along for the ride with you

always 

my reverie is broken by an uneven slab of pavement and as i squeak and stumble the strong grip of your hand manages to keep me from sprawling completely 

my heart is racing and i can't help but feel guilty because _bag or no i could've broken my camera, **william's** camera_ but your eyes radiate calm and your smile is soft and reassuring 

"You okay?" 

"Y-yeah.. just. Really startled." 

you pull me in for a hug, and rub the small of my back

"Oh, Max Clumsyfield. What am I gonna do with you?" 

"Teach me your ways?" 

You scoff. "You would think you'd be more graceful, what with the whole bisexuals-sit-in-weird-places thing." 

I can't help but giggle. "Shut up, Chloe." 

still hand in hand, we get back to walking

you don't shut up, and i don't mind 

* * *

there's a bench up ahead, and you convince me to let you have a smoking break, even though the walk across campus is like.. 5 minutes, and i agree because even though i still have work to get to the needy part of my brain seems to think _you're_ work and wow we are _such_ disasters

besides, my heart is still racing, and i want to ground myself - unexpected near-calamities are _not_ good for my ability to appreciate everyday majesty 

luckily for me, this spot is prime artistic inspiration 

when i see the gentle sway of the overhanging tree branches and the way the lights play against them and the shine of the moon peeking between the leaves i can almost convince myself that i'm here to add to my portfolio 

i actually do; the branches frame the seemingly-endless pathway and its colonnade of street lamps absolutely perfectly 

but when my work is done and my camera is secure in its home again, i turn around to face the _other_ tableau but don't motion for you to get up 

how could i? 

you're smoking nonchalantly, legs splayed out across the bench like you _own it_ , and the street lights are bright enough to illuminate your tattoos and the subtle flex of your arm as you shift and the smoke distended in the air and _wowser_ you are so fucking hot 

i realize i really shouldn't have put my camera away so prematurely 

you have plenty of time to notice me fumbling with my bag and i can't quite tell if you roll your eyes (but you probably do) and by the time i manage to take the shot the photo is already doomed 

"You are _so_ not helpful. This was supposed to be.. a serious meditation on seclusion and thoughtfulness, or something." 

You laugh. "Neither of those things sounds very _me_. I'm supposed to be your muse, right?" 

I smile. "A lack of agency does often go hand-in-hand with museness." 

"What a highbrow critique." 

i shake my head, but can't keep the grin off my face

you are _so_ impossible 

i love it 

the photo slowly comes into being, and i get to see with ever-greater clarity just how badly you fucked up the shot with your metal horns and ludicrous facial expression

but i can't be mad, because you're right 

chloe price, captured perfectly 

* * *

the soft glow of the lamps and the moths that congregate around them and the serene hum of the night is still so sublime that i almost can't deal with it but 

that's what my photographs are for 

life is fucking beautiful, and the fact that archiving it is my _career_ is so damn incredible 

these moments were already so _much_ , even without you

but now i have you

again

and i notice details i didn't before 

like the smudges that dilute the light in new and interesting ways 

beautiful grime 

you're really good for my work

a fringe benefit of putting so much of myself into my art, i guess 

nights like these always remind me of blackwell but it doesn't bother me 

i have a lot of triggers, and being reminded of a different perfect night with you isn't one of them

even if it was sandwiched between the worst events of my life 

i'm sure the memory would absolutely kill me if you weren't around anymore but you _are_ and you _will be_ and everything's okay 

we survived the fucking apocalypse together 

_my powers might not last, chloe.._

_that's okay - we will. forever._

chloe, chloe chloe chloe

forever 

ever so often you gaze at me, your eyes brimming with love, and you don't say anything but you don't need to and i imagine that's what my face looks like 

it definitely is

max and chloe forever 

* * *

i can see the photography building's hulking mass now and i know that in a few minutes i'll be curled up on one of the stairwell beanbags doing work on my computer and your hair will be tickling my neck and your eyes will lazily flit between the illuminated pathways below and me and i know the extra bounce in my step is obvious because you fail to suppress a snort but i squeeze your hand and you apologize dramatically and i do chafe a bit at ' _forgive me, your majesty'_ but 

i can't deny taking these moments seriously

and i thank you for playing along

when it's chloe night i'll listen studiously as you geek out about the beauty of mechanical engineering and i'll probably smile at your enthusiasm but it won't be mocking 

not at _all_. 

and you'll probably put on a wounded face and i'll reassure you that i'm only laughing because i love how excited you get and you'll tell me that you know and we'll both laugh and you'll probably want to kiss me and i'll let you as long as you don't get grease on my shirt and 

"Hi. Hello. Earth to Max. Same spot, right?" 

"Ugh, I was having a _moment_ , Chloe," I whine. "You don't need to know the floor until we get to the elevator. Which, might I remind you, the entranceway is not." 

you smirk and i die a little 

"You're cute when you space out. If you're down for it, there's an abandoned shack off the highway - unoccupied and safe, don't worry - that I think you might drool over." 

art night and date night becoming the same thing is probably the best development in my life and the enthusiasm of my nodding probably makes me look like your dumb elvis bobblehead 

you stop and touch my cheek and i know what to expect before it happens but your lips are still transcendental and

"What if we were kissed in the foyer of the photography building and we were both girls?" 

i start laughing hysterically and you do too, but i manage to compose myself enough to put on serious-max face and you see what's in my hands and roll your eyes and smile and touch my cheek again and i'm very confident you'll back me up when i tell our parents that this photo is 100% candid 

kissing you still causes me to space out 

actually, did it boomerang back around to being a candid? that's a question to ask my professor

and perhaps debate you about over popcorn and shitty movies 

i blink and your eyebrow is quirked and i realize i have a _lot_ of shit i'm gonna need to gush about to you if i want to have any hope of concentrating on my work 

i should probably be more responsible 

but i'm, as you say, a _dumbass-art-gay-who-spends-half-her-time-in-whimsy-world_ and i can't find it in myself to be bothered by that 

you aren't bothered either 

i remind you how perfect you are and fit as much kissing into a three-story elevator ride as i can 

**Author's Note:**

> haters will say covid is making me desperately nostalgic for chilly nights on campus
> 
> this is extremely off-brand lmao; but it turns out i actually really like writing cute romantic banter 
> 
> what if i became a fluff author 🤔


End file.
